Sojourners Together: A Story

Front matter

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Chapter I

Everyone should know, or at any rate should pretend to know, Schwartzbach, that most charming of all the charming Alpine villages. It occupies B, little space at the foot of one of the most gigantic of the mountains — those mountains which are all gigantic, which are all majestic, whether those softly sloping in alps and then suddenly becoming precipitous and rugged of ridge, stretching themselves on and on into the utter distance of dazzling ice-fields, or those which spire to the very heaven from their bases and bury their glittering jpeaks in the bosoms of the clouds that swim over them.

But everyone must know these mountains and remember what were his thoughts when the rumbling of the diligence waxed feeble at the door of the hotel, arid he stood looking through the valley up to the white mountainplains, up to the gray crags, with the brown hospice built at the bordering line of snow. No one can surely forget what was the effect produced on his mind when suddenly a glance of yellow sunlight swept over the forest of pines by whose side the diligence had passed, and lit up the opposite alp, making its bright green herbage flash like a green wave of a foamless sea, while the nearer mount was still in gloom, but only half way up its side, for its snowy summits towering over all the peaks can never be shadowed.

Upon the gentlest slope at the green base of one of the hills the hotel is built. No one could possibly doubt that Providence designed that an hotel should be built in this place.

There is no such position for a hotel to be found in all Europe^ You may order a view of the scenery a la carte as easily as you mark off your dinner. What will you have .'^ A bright green alp with pasturing animals, a thread of torrent silver trickling down among the herbage at its side ? Then take a room in the south wing. Would you like to see nature in its magnificent nakedness } There is a little room very close to the roof, from the single window of which one can see nothing but tumbled brown lichened crags, and it is expected one will pass the night musing and mourning that man's foot should ever come nigh to break in upon the rude grandeur of such a scene. Then from the coffee-room one may see a forest of dark pines overgrowing the valley. But it is from the north wing that the whole splendour of the mountains must be seen ; the snow-white splendour of the peaks, the glistening of the torrents among the black chasms, and the waving of fir branches. These are some of the things which have made the H6tel International famous on both sides of the Atlantic.

But somehow the rooms are not selected solely by reason of the view that may be obtained from the window of each. Young Boswell and Johnson who *do' their annual tour together, must have a double-bedded room, and get one, and are very comfortable, though it does not 'look out' at all. The Reverend Augustus Wy vern, who comes with the intent of studying the picturesque in nature from a High Church stand-point, will not have his chamber within a certain distance of the billiard-room, and consequently exchanges the one that had been allotted to him for the room of Captain

B 2

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Jeffares, much to the satisfaction of both gentlemen, though by the exchange the clergyman loses the very best chance of watching the sun rise up from the valley without being compelled to get out of bed. Now Captain Jeffares, as he undresses himself on getting to his room, perceives, the first gray dawn-light silvering the ridges, and laughs in a subdued sort of way ; then forthwith pulls down his blind and goes asleep, trusting himself — and he knows exactly how far to have confidence in himself — not to awake until noon.

The Jiotel is of course crowded during the time of the migration of tourists, but at the season at which this story begins it was not at all well filled ; so when one evening the diligence arrived with six passengers outside and two in - side^ the mattre dhdtel gave his hands the slightest possible rub together.

Five of the gentlemen outside got down, and there was immediately a great deal of loud talk, and a few senseless jests as they stamped their way into the hotel and began calling out for a variety of things to drink in a variety of tongues. Then as a fair little lady and an embarrassedlooking young gentleman brushed past the door of the rooni where the party were standing with their hats on, there was a whispered laugh which made the little lad/s cheeks blush and made the young gentleman try and look unconcerned as he whistled a temperate air. No dne in the hotel could doubt that this gentleinan and lady were newly married, and that this was their honeymoon tour.

The sixth gentleman who got down from the diligence did not go into the hotel at once ; he stood looking up at the wonders of peak and ridge that know no limit but the light blue of the sky into which they dwindle* He was a rather tall and thin man ; his face was pale though not of that sallow complexion which is called 'interesting'; his hair was of that indescribable hue known as fairish, and only at one part was in the least inclined to curl ; this desire manifested itself in the lock above his left temple. The consequence was that his forehead seemed very narrow with that curl leaning half over it The man's eyes were light gray and anything but good-humoured in their expression. These eyes had got a most tantalising power of abstaining from giving the least attention to any^ one in a room when the owner of the eyes entered. Persons who were in the room generally got out of temper at this peculiarity. His dress was English, not Alpine, costume. As he walked into the coffee-room where his fellowpassengers were standing, there was a general pitying smile upon all the compassionate faces in the room as soon as he was perceived, but upon the face of the man there was not the slightest expression of consciousness of the presence of anyone. Somehow, as he stood at one of the windows the loud conversation waned.

He gave his order to the waiter in a whisper, and in a few minutes he had brought to him a long bottle of peculiar wine. The waiter, who knew exactly how many dozens of this brand there were in Europe, felt the highest respect for a man who possessed even as much knowledge as caused him to believe he could obtain a bottle at this hotel

After refreshing himself, this young man put on his hat and went out of the hotel, and strayed away from the road leading through the valley till he came upon one of the narrow tracks on the hill-side sloping gradually up among mossy crags and green patches of the alps. He went along this track for a long way, but after a while he turned from it, and commenced climbing among the rocks in the direction of one of the lower torrents that tumbled down from the ledge of a ragged cliff, and ran on below to join the large stream that rolled in the hollow of the valley. Crossing this torrent, he went round the brow of the hill, bringing before his sight a splendid view of the most distant mountains — those mountains so distant that it was impossible to discern the green beauty of their bases from the rugged barrenness of their many peaks. It was apparent he was not wandering listlessly without an object He was watching carefully, as he walked, the gradual appearing of one of the furthest hills which came into sight as he went around the brow of the slope. When at last the clear outline stood disclosed against the background of sky, he stopped, and after gazing at it for a moment, sat down on a crag, but continued with his eyes looking over all the scene before him.

' This is the very spot,' he muttered ; ' and what on earth brought me to it again ? God knows. Why I take such trouble to see once more the spot I have reason to hate more than all the places of this earth, God knows. I wonder, do murderers have any interest to revisit the scenes of their crimes ? Perhaps they do ; better refer the answer to the same Authority as in my case. This was exactly where we sat a year ago. I remember we could see just so much of that hill as is before me now ; the line drawn by the edge of this one crossed it at exactly the same place. It seems to me that little cloud is the

same we watched And what were we

talking about ? . , . . Bah, that is the worst of this scenery ; it brings back every word, every motion, every thought which would have never returned. But now .... ah, yes, I remember how her one ringlet fell down upon this hand — this hand ; how her soft gray eyes looked earnestly down at a flower ; where is the flower now ? As I said .... ah, I remember it all ; and here I am now, having learned one thing — that she has forgotten what I said then. If she were here with me now, would she remember, I wonder ? If she were to see a sketch of that hill, with the pines and the larch, then would she remember .4 . :. ?'

He.was silent for a long time. Then he put his handl in his loose coat pocket, and brought out a leather case with a clasp, from which he quietly took a buridip of letters and a few crushed rose-cleaves that the mountain breath whirled away. He did not open any of the letters : he only looked at them musingly. Then he brought out a wax match, and set the letters on fire separately. It seemed to be a luxury to watch the ashes brushed away by the breeze, for when he came to the last leaf that remained, he seemed sorry that they had burned so quickly ; he held it in his hand for a long time before putting the light to it. When the half of it was gone, he suddenly put out the flame with a convulsive motion, crumpled up the remainder, and pushed it into his pocket

' What a fool — a wretched, miserable fool I am ! Why should I burn them — ^the only things I care for in the world ? I do care for them. Oh, my God ! I do care for them — ^for her — or why should I be here now ? I love every place we were in together— every peak she saw with me, — ^and I am a fool to think I can reduce my memories to the ashes I made of her words. Oh, fool! fool!'

He put his face down to his hands, and did not raise it for a long time. When h^ did look up, there was not a truce of any emotion on it. He took out a small sketching-block, and began outlining the far ridges of mountains which seemed no more than a standing mist ; then he gradually brought in the^iearef slopes, upon the sides of which were discernible the cultivated lO SOJOURNERS TOGETHER.

patches, the forests of pine and larch ; then he came in his sketch to the gentle ascent of the hill directly in front of him. He got in the lines of short firs pretty successfully, and the position of the light with the shadow of a peak, upon the paper, but then he suddenly stopped, and seemed to regard a part of the scene with more interest than he had given it hitherto. It was not the effect of a great convulsion of nature that so interested him ; he had been sketching colossal upheavals hitherto without a thought, save that this part of the universe had been upturned fifty thousand years or so before, solely that the recollection of a few days in his life might be more clearly defined in his memory ; now, however, he looked intently down to the base of the little slope, and paused. It was, after all, only a white thing he saw there — a woman in a white dress sitting far down beneath him.

' Ah ! ' exclaimed the artist, ' it will do ; I wanted a bit of life in the drawing, and it will do very well, though I wish it were sitting up a little higher. I wanted to put it against the outline of the road.' *

He spoke quite complacently of the neuter pronoun sitting there ; but suddenly it rose from its seat, and hurried along the little winding track till it was lost behind the brow of the hill Before it disappeared, he saw it stand for a moment as if looking up to his place, then it was gone.

' Confound it ; it might have stayed for a minute longer,' said he, in vexation. ' It would have done so well for the life. Where is this it was ? Ah, yes ; FU manage without it'

Then he put in the remaining bits of the scene, and pushing the block into his pocket without examining it critically, he jumped to his feet, and commenced walking rapidly away from the place.

As he entered the hotel, he saw two persons who had come in just before him ; the one was a little old gentleman, who sat on a chair, mopping his head with a big red silk handkerchief; the other was a young lady, with a white dress, and a fair flushed face.

The artist saw them, and wondered if that fair girl was the bit of neuter life of his sketch.

CHAPTER IL

As has been mentioned before, the tourist season at Schwartzbach had not hitherto been prolific. It must have been very bad indeed when the mattre (VhStel was seen by one of the waiters to rub his hands together. The maitre was invariably imperturbable ; if he had not been so he knew he could never hope to command any respect from his waiters. The day that had seen the arrival of the eight pas- 3engers by the diligence, had also witnessed the departure of eleven from the delights of the H6tel International, so that the table d'kSte on this evening numbered only twelve, and all of these were what the waiters called gentlemen. There were only three ladies in the hotel ; one was an invalid who had private rooms, another was the honeymooning bride, the third was the girl with the white dress who had been standing at the entrance as the artist came in from his stroll up the hills. None of these appeared at the table.

Among the men who were at the table was the man whose steps we have traced with all the carefulness of the detective of a novel — ^that supernatural machinery employed by the modem muse for the purpose of getting good people out of scrapes, and bad people into scrapes. He now deigned to see some of the others in the room/ He saw the Reverend Augustus Wyvem sitting pensively before his soup ; he saw also Captain Jeffares, but this gentleman did not look very pensive* He was engaged with a decanter when he noticed the other man looking at him, for the moment he did look at him ; then he opened his eyes very wide, and smiled graciously, saying in a contemplative whisper, ' Netherton, by Jove!'

The picturesque tourists who had come with the diligence were all present at the table. They were all talking very loud in a language which a foreigner would perhaps call English ; but which no one aware of the correct pro-* nunciation of aspirated words could admit to be in that tongue. They were all very elegant young men, and as to their perfumery, they were irreproachable* Yet the Reverend Augustus. Wyvem, Captain Jeffares, and the man Captain Jeffares had called Netherton smiled together; for they held a theory 'that a man who dressed himself in a picturesque costume, who perfumed himself luxuriously, and who talked loud in the midst of strangers, was a snob. The perfumed gentlemen were in excel- * lent spirits. They had their jokes about everything, jokes by no means obscure, not requiring any supernatural degree of perception to see their point. This was the pleasantest part of their wit ; it did not fatigue one trying to penetrate to its secret hidden depth as some kind of wit does. At first its harmless shafts were directed at the young man who had been induced by his bride to spend their honeymoon in that fairy region of her fancy, the Continent. This young man tried to smile, and take the little jokes pleasantly, though indeed his face once did get very hot when the sarcasm alluded to his wife's absence from the table ; but altogether he bore it very good-naturedly ; still when he went to this wife of his after dinner, he was in a very bad temper.

By Netherton's side sat the little old gentleman who had found it necessary to subdue the heat, consequent upon the exertion of walking, by means of a large red handkerchief, as Netherton returned from his stroll. He was rather

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a peculiar old gentleman. His name was Mr. Dobbin, and he had been staying for the past fortnight at the hotel with his daughter. He did not express himself very freely upon any topic, but when he did it was in the freest possible manner as to grammar and construction. He did not bind himself to any rule in speaking, nor did he betray any refinement of thought through all this uncultivated speech. These peculiarities did not, however, call forth any of the satire of the profound wits ; they mercifully took no notice of his blunders, or his want of refinement; but when he quietly poured his champagne into a tumbler, ignoring the broad shallow glass by its side, a general laugh went round the perfumed part of the table, which was not repressed as the old gentleman tucked his napkin under his chin, and commenced eating his fish with the knife which was placed before him for the purpose of carving. At this point the satirists resorted to the clever device of adopting a language which was as like French as their usual langyage was like English, as a means of getting rid of their jokes. Under this clever screen a hundred good things were said, the least of which, if spoken in a language he could understand, would have appeared to Mr.

Dobbin as the grossest insult Of course these jokes were all insults, but through being spoken in a tongue unintelligible to the person they were aimed at, they appeared to be nothing more than good jokes, more especially as he looked so utterly unconscious of being the butt of that wit which caused such loud outbursts of laughter among the jocular gendemen.

But the success of this last device was very much increased in the opinion of those whose ingenuity had adopted it, when they found out by the unmoved countenance of Mr. Netherton, that he was equally ignorant of French. They had been uneasy in their minds when he was in the room with them ; on dismounting from the diligence, he had not deigned to look at them, though they had travelled together ; and besides he had called for a bottle of a particular sort of wine in a way which was most offensive to them : he wanted the name kept a secret, so he had whispered it to the waiter. He had truly been most insolent to them, but now they were having their revenge, and they roared out their hilarity in a language that caused Henri, the youngest garf on behind the table, to push his napjcin into his mouth. But with the exception

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of the faintest possible smile at some terrible blunder, Netherton's face was perfectly unmoved. Once or twice Captain Jeffares winked across the table at him in a sagacious way, but no wink had any effect upon Netherton. He felt utterly disgusted with everything. He was disgusted with himself for coming to this place while he still retained the memory of his last visit. As he sat here now, listening to the wit sparkling round the table, he was even thinking of words that had been spoken at this very table, of the faces he had seen at this table ; at last all his recollections of words and circumstances and faces took the form of one face, and when he felt himself thinking of that one face he felt the more disgusted with himself

After dining, Captain Jeffares came round to Netherton, and clapped him on the back in the most good-natured manner possible.

* So you are here again, old fellow ; and you are right ; it is the joUiest old place on earth. I haven't been in England sinc^ I saw you a year ago. I went to Rome in the winter. Fine sort of place, Rome, you know, only too much art about it ; it was a great strain on my mind after leaving this place. Everyone comes

c back to it, you know, it s the joUielst of all the regular places. Now, isn't it ? '

' It is the place that I hate above all places on earth,' said Netherton quietly. * I hate it, and all about it, from that white peak we can just see up the valley to this house full of confounded snobs.'

Captain JefFares paused thoughtfully for a moment, then he^ gave the slightest little crescendo whistle and smiled.

' Ah, I think I see it ; she is she .'

He paused and saw the other man's face flush slightly and his forehead become wrinkled, but he did not speak.

' Yes, b'Jove, I have it now. But cheer up, Netherton, it's only a mistake ; still, you know, I thought she was quite sure ; I am a sort of believer in brown hair and gray eyes ; but now I remember there was something of an uncertain look about her long curl ; you may remember it ? '

* Oh,' groaned Netherton, 'may remember it!'

'Well, n6ver mind; I say there was a perfidious look about it, and I believe I said so to Ellison when he was here — ^uncommonly decent

fellow Ellison was. And so she she

well, never mind ; but what the deuce brings you back, tell me ? '

' Haven't you heard of pilgrimages, JefFares ? Well this is a pilgrimage with me ; I came to perform a religious duty^ — a vow I had taken upon me ; this is not a visit of pleasure, you may be sure.'

' Come into the billiard-room, old boy,' said Captain Jeffares soothingly, putting his arm within the other's ; ' come, and tell me how it came about.'

Just as they were rising, the stout little man, who had escaped from the running fire of cleverness which was directed at him from the table, came over and stood beside them with a tooth-pick.

* Fine mountains these Alps are. Sir ; fine view of them from these windows.'

'Yes, pretty fair,' said Captain Jeffares patronisingly.

* That white sugar-loaf hill. Sir, it would be better if it wasn't quite so conspicuous. Don't you agree with me. Sir ? '

' I fear that the suggestion is beyond my power of imagination,' said Netherton. * I must confess an image of the scene with that mountain absent does not present itself very distinctly to my mind.'

' Doesn't it now, Sir ? well, I likes hills to

C2 look at — they're ornaments, I says to my daughter, who is mad about hills — but I says they're for ornament, not use — meaning the climbing, Sir, which knocks me up in no time — but my daughter, Sir, through being young, likes the climbing. She draws too, does Amy, for she has just come from her school in London, a hundred-and-fifty a year without extras ; rather a stiff figure. Sir, but, bless you, it's worth it'

* There can be but little doubt about it, Sir/ said Netherton.

' Yes, Sir, we went away to-day a good bit round the pass, and she left me and began to get up by one of the tracks, to get a good view of one of the hills to draw, and she comes down to me in about half-an-hour in a great heat, saying there was a man on the hill she was drawing who was drawing the hill she was on ; it seems they were both drawing the hills that the others were on. It was a great joke. Sir, and so I said to her ; but girls are so unreasonable, she got quite into a pet and said it was impudent in the poor young fellow to dare to draw her or her hill. I laughed, Sir, for I thought it a deal impudenter in her to draw the young man and his hill.'

' He is a decent enough sort of old fellow/ said Jeffares to his companion when they were alone in the billiard-room, *A good deal a better fellow than those in the knickerbockers/

*ril tell you what it is, Jeffares/ said the other, suddenly ; ' if there is any more of the talk that went on to-day at the table d'Mte, there will be a row. I don't usually mind that sort of thing, but I won't see a man insulted in such a brutal manner without making a row ; that's all I have to say about it Will you break?'

' You're right, Netherton ; but take my advice, and keep out of a row with such men ; they all come from Bond Street, you know. Now tell us all about yout little affaif. I'll listen during some of my long breaks.'

* Confound my little affair! You are not going to hear any more of it. Rather queer, wasn't it, about that girl sketching the hill while the fellow was sketching her, eh ? '

' Not so very rum, after all, I think. Was it one of the knickerbockers that was sketching ? ' ' No,' said Nethertpn ; ' it was 1/

* Bless my soul ; you ! '

' Yes ; and it was the hill where I had told that other girl all I had to tell a year ago.'

* Was it really, now ? Ah, well, you have more to tell this year, old boy/

So he had. Netherton told him how his father had died since he was at this place last, and how the wealth he had been reputed to possess proved to be imaginary; and how, in consequence, the girl whom he had met here a year ago, and who had promised to be his wife, had given herself to another — * sold herself,' the excited young man termed it in the heat of his narrative ; then he went on to say how it was his intention to study the art of painting as a profession, and that he was even now on his way to Italy to assist in the carrying out of this intention.

* Yes, Jefifares,' said he, winding up ; * Art is to be my future bride ; there is some truth, at any rate, in her affection ; she cannot be bought or sold with money. There is comfort, and truth, and satisfaction in her love.'

* Ah, yes, I've no doubt of it whatever,' said Captain Jeffares, playing carefully.

But when Captain Jeffares got to that room of his which afforded such a sumptuous view, he sat down on one of the chairs, and was convulsed.

Chapter III

The next day Mr. Netherton sought out the mattre cH hotels who was his friend of last year, and informed him of the circumstances of the previous day's table. . On hearing of the insults offered to Mr. Dobbin, the maitre got into a violent passion, and swore by all the blessed blues in the variety of Nature's tints, and by all the abstract blessednesses, that if such a thing were ever to take place at his table, he would have the man who should take part in it put from his house.